Obsessions are Life
by GrimMoody
Summary: A Starcraft fan is sucked into the realm of her obsession, and victory is the only way home. Chapter Eight is now up, and Angela's plans are under way.
1. Obsessions R Us

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain. I wish I owned Starcraft.

---

It happens when you don't look for it. Or when you look for it too hard.

It finds you when you choose to look away, but by then it's too late.

If you see that thing ahead, there is no option but to accept

If you find that thing, there is little hope you might return from this fate

For imagination, once engaged, will never leave you alone

It tortures you in the night, gives peace to your day

And it aggravates your busy moments with thoughts of away

And when you finally reach that away, indeed

You would sell your all for one more busy moment

And to forget there ever was an away.

-

It was Angela's turn, Angela Parker.

She was a girl of eighteen, fresh from high school and headed for her state college. Well, after the summer. Right now Angela was headed to the public bus stop, walking down the urban street with one of her friends, James Randall, discussing the literary details of the game known as Starcraft.

"And Mengsk is going to continue screwing up the universe." James continued. "He's so stupid and arrogant. Man, Mengsk always digs in the worse and weirdest places to find soldiers, and it's going to bite him in the butt again and again."

Angela laughed. "My prediction for him is salvation. So far, he's been supporting the theme of bad authority, you know, that's supposed to be good but really isn't. But at the end of Brood War, he was utterly defeated, and all of his pride was destroyed by the swarm. His thoughts are going to be about revenge, so he's going to have to go after the Zerg with everything he has. This is going to result in good things for him, because he learns to become a good leader through his struggles.

"Now Raynor, he's going to become bitter about his defeat, somewhat or a lot, that depends on Blizzard. Anyway, he's got to fight Kerrigan too, revenge and all, so I predict that his nature is going to focus on revenge. A lot of his present good nature is going to be worn away, 'cause after all he has to fight an object of his affection, somebody he truly loved. So he's going to defeat Kerrigan, and when he does, the hybrids will come. Their arrival signal's Raynor's death, because he has completed his themes and has no more purpose for the story."

"No way!" James countered. "Mengsk is so going to die. All of the people who represent bad authority die. Duke was in the whole secret Confederate conspiracies and he dies, Raszagal got mind-controlled by Kerrigan so of course she went down, and Judicator Aldaris was a really bad authority. Kerrigan pwned him bad in the end."

"Aldaris! He's the perfect example of what I'm talking about!" Angela exclaimed. "His main purpose was to serve as bad authority to contrast the heroism of Tassadar, so when he was at Shakuras, he had no point to the plot, and that's why Blizzard made him a truthseeker, and truthseekers always die!"

"What are you talking about? Truthseeker?"

"Yeah, it's what I call the people who are more suspicious about their situations than the other people around them, and they have the daring to find out why something is. They always find out why, then the die before, during, or after they tell their message. Aldaris dies before he tells anybody. Simon from Lord of the Flies died in a weird frenzy when he tried to tell the other boys that the monster was just a dead guy in a parachute. That dude from Soylent Green manages to tell the people about the food before he dies."

"Come on," James scoffed. "We don't know that he dies. The movie ends first."

"Please, it was a fatal shot, you know he died."

"Well, whatever that's about, I still say you think about it too much. And Raynor is going to live. He's a knight. You know that knights always live in their stories, victorious and with a beautiful maiden in their arms." James swung Angela back suddenly, holding her draped over his arm. "Oh my darling, let us ride far from this place. Come to my kingdom and you shall be my queen!"

Angela laughed again with delight. "Just because you're a Jim doesn't mean Jim Raynor has a chance."

She loved looking at James's face. Randall, not Raynor. He had the deepest blue eyes, a dark face that mostly hid his few freckles, and lovely red hair. Most of the time James kept his hair short and spiked, but always one strand would curl on his stern forehead, like a joke at a dignified dinner party. It was the crowning feature of his face, and it really did make him look like a king, or at least a knight.

"Whoa, look at that!"

"Get a room!

"Way to go, Jim!"

"Well, I guess it's true. Nerd guys do get girls."

"Then why am I single? How do you do it, Jim?"

James and Angela stood up straight again, embarrased. Up came three other Starcraft fans, all very much amused at their two friends. Eric and Devin were hardcore fans that Angela and Jim met while standing in line for Walmart to open in 1998, all of them waiting to buy Starcraft's expansion set, Brood War. While that was fan history, Kyle was a more recent friend, and only to the guys.

"Hey Jim, you think Starcraft: Ghost is gonna come out in 2005?" Devin asked. "You're our prediction boy with the golden guess, so what's it gonna be?"

"His shadow is showing." Eric joked. "So that means six more weeks of delays."

"Yeah, I'll go with that. There's no way Blizzard's gonna finish for a long while on that game." James answered. "And then just maybe they'll do something with Starcraft II, which will probably come out in like 2010."

"I don't think I'll get Ghost." Angela said, annoyed. "They just had to put it on a console instead of PC, and I don't have any of the game consoles needed for it. I'm not going to spend fifty bucks plus the game cost just for one game that doesn't really advance the plot or answer questions about the Protoss-Zerg hybrids. Blizzard should have known better than to take the game off of the PC."

"I don't have a console either, but you don't hear me complaining about it." Kyle grinned cleverly. "That Nova's so hot, whooooeee! I'd buy a Playstation II just for her."

"Sick, they made her too slutty." Angela complained. "Who the crap wears an outfit that's all up on her butt anyway?"

"Come on," Eric inputted. "she's gotta stay nice and flexible, and baggier clothes would just get in her way."

"That's right," Kyle said. "Man, she can nuke my command center any day! Am I right guys, or what?"

The boys hooted in accordance with their immaturity. Except for James, who just grinned. He knew better than to act that way in front of his girlfriend.

"Sick, and she's all fake too. Just a bunch of slutty pixels put together wrong." Angela rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," Kyle winked. "There's always room in my heart for you and your candy a-"

A palm flew in his face, and Angela's other hand snagged the teen by his shirt, pulling him and shoving him against an electrical pole. "You listen good, punk, and you remember this face. Whenever you disrespect women, make a joke about fake body parts on computer women, and ruin the best game ever made in the process, I'm gonna be there to beat the nonsense outta ya'. Got it now, kid?"

"Hey Jim! Come get your woman! Dang, girl, can't take a joke."

"You bet I can't."

James put his arm on Angela's shoulder, and she let go of Kyle. He quickly stepped away from the pole as Eric and Devin snickered from behind. The other boys had always known that Angela was tough, especially after someone tried to steal her place in line for Brood War, or a few weeks ago when her older brother hid her hydralisk figurine. However, Kyle didn't know better. Jokes could only go so far with her around, or at least with Kyle's particular brand of joking.

"C'mon dude, chill." Devin said. "She's just punch-happy. Hey Jim, you coming over for the tournament tonight? We gotta show some newbies the true meaning of pwnage."

"You know it. I just have to do some stuff for my mom, and I'll be over there."

"Cool. See you later, man."

The three boys turned down a side road, Devin and Eric ragging on Kyle all the way. As they left, Angela and James continued their conversation, arguing if Stukov could have really been killed and was still able to be infested. James didn't think Starcraft 64 really counted in the real plot, so he backed the idea that Stukov really was dead. Angela persisted in saying that since the United Earth Directorate lied about the means of his death, they could lie about the funeral and make it so there was no actual body inside of Stukov's coffin. By the time they got to the bus stop, James was convinced that it was possible for Stukov to be in the Zerg swarm, whether or not Starcraft 64 mattered.

"Angie, you gonna play Starcraft this time, or just write it?" James asked as they stopped under the bus stop sign. "You know we miss having you there."

"I know. But you guys always hang with that jerk Kyle. Let's have us an old-fashioned tournament, like we did before this Kyle guy showed up. We used to be real nerds then, not just people who hang out."

"Sheesh, Angie. We've always been people who hang out. Why are you so obsessed with Starcraft? I mean, it's cool and all, and it's one of the most fun things to write about, but sooner or later we're going to have to get real jobs. Nobody's going to pay us to play Starcraft. I don't see why you don't like Kyle either. If you actually hung out with us, you would know that he's almost as obsessed as you."

"Whatever." Angela sighed and dropped her backpack against the bus stop sign, then sat on the curb. "If you think so, I guess I'll give the guy a chance. But he's such a perv."

"All guys are like that."

"Well, you better not be." Angela smiled at James as he sat down next to her. "I can't come tonight, but you call me for next time and I'm there. I gotta get my Starcraft fix before heading off to college anyway."

James looked doubtfully at his girlfriend. "You can't come tonight? Bull. I bet you're just writing, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?"

"Angie, Angie, Angie. Give it up. There's no way you can write a good enough story to convince Blizzard to hire you. Don't give me all that crap that the people who made Starcraft are leaving the project or the company and only a die-hard like you can write the sequel. You've written to Blizzard with a huge, wonderful portfolio and they rejected you. Again and again they said no, but you still don't give up. Hey, listen to me. Starcraft was a fun writing exercise for a while, but it's time to grow up now."

The girl scoffed jokingly, "I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys-R-Us kid."

James couldn't help but laugh. "Whatever, Peter Pan. Look, I gotta go, but you don't lose yourself in the fiction, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm in the real world now."

"And don't you forget it."

The youth gave Angela a kiss before getting up and heading off toward his house. Angela shook her head as he left, staring down at the pavement. For several minutes she sat that way, only moving to make certain she had exact change for the bus. However, while her body was inactive, her mind was racing with all sorts of plotlines, outlining the possible fates of the Starcraft characters according to their themes. Angela had done this several times before, but she never grew tired of it. If only she could find that one plotline that was magnificent, different from what everyone else thought, maybe then Blizzard would consider her. If she could get a job with Blizzard, her life could be Starcraft, just as she always wanted it to be.

People will constantly fight for the things they believe in, and if there were nothing to fight for, even metaphorically, life would lose its own essence. You know people like Angela. They are those that hook themselves onto one goal and hang on with the greatest faith you could never imagine. People like her are not uncommon. You see them every day, changing the way that life is lived. However, here in the Twilight Zone, things are taken one step further. The things you take seriously will take you away from everything you know of as normal, plain, or realistic.

Obsessions are life. Remember, if you achieve your intended goal, nothing can undo it for you. Actions done are completed permanently, especially while in the Twilight Zone.


	2. What's with the Mail Dude?

Angela unlocked the door and opened it, entering into her house. Lazily she threw her hat into a side closet, then plopped her backpack on the coffeetable. Wandering through the house she looked around in curiosity.

"Hey Mom, you home?"

No response. Angela shrugged and went straight for the fridge. Digging around produced some tomatoes and ham lunchmeat. Getting the mustard and mayonaise out, Angela made a sandwich, then turned on the radio and headed for the livingroom. Plopping the sandwich on a tissue, she pulled out her laptop and opened Microsoft Word. Just as she was settled down and ready to write, the doorbell suddenly rang.

Angela rolled her eyes. Talking to people was not her favorite part of life, and the only person likely to come to the Parkers' door was their chatty neighbor Debra Messings. Whether it was to borrow a cup of something or to invite the Parkers somewhere, Debra could be counted on to talk until nightfall. Angela readied in her mind some lie about going to the doctor's office for an appointment or to church or somewhere, anything to get the neighbor on her way quickly.

Opening the door, Angela opened her mouth to give excuse, when she suddenly saw that it wasn't Debra Messings. Instead there was a bearded deliveryman, holding a small package and the necessary papers to receive it.

"Good morning, ma'am." the deliveryman said as he handed over the papers. "Just sign here, please."

She took the paper and the pen offered and signed accordingly. "You know," she said. "you look a lot like Arcturus Mengsk."

The man smiled politely. "I get that sometimes, especially in this neighborhood."

"Oh? You ever play Starcraft?"

"No, I never heard of it. I'm not interested in computer games anyway."

"Okay then, I guess."

Angela handed the papers and pen back, disappointed that he wasn't an adult who had a real life and job but still made time for Starcraft. If she could introduce someone like that to her parents, Angela was certain that they wouldn't limit her playing time to just two hours, but let her make her own decisions instead.

Taking the package and waving a polite goodbye to the nice man, Angela went back inside.

"Hey, if that guy never heard of Starcraft, how did he know that it was a computer game and not some console thing?"

Sitting back down on the couch, she noticed something strange about the package. There was no return address. Suspicious, she shook the box gently. All she could hear was shuffling. She gave quickly into curiosity and opened the package. Inside were dog tags and a camoflage uniform.

"This must have gone to the wrong address..."

She looked at the wrappings again, and sure enough, the address on the package was her own. "Angela Parker" was scrawled heavily with permanent marker above it. Angela picked up the dog tags with growing anxiety, afraid of what it might say.

"Parker, Angela C....62853421....Terran Dominion Alpha Squadron? Is this some kind of prank?"

Picking up the uniform, Angela read the name on it. It was Parker, plain and clear. Turning to the shoulder insignia, it was the exact replica from the game: a red arm holding a red whip that circled around to meet the back of the hand. The Terran Dominion logo. Still curious, Angela took the uniform out of the box. She discovered the black combat boots underneath, looking and smelling brand new. Wondering if it would fit, Angela quickly tried it on. She stood before the long mirror in her mother's room. It was exactly her size, and it fit perfectly. Though she couldn't tell herself why she did it, the girl brushed her her hair back and tucked it neatly into a bun. Topping it off with the camo hat, Angela looked just like a soldier, except for the look of half amazement and half fright.

"Holy crap..."

Angela immediately ran to the kitchen and picked up the phone. The guys had to know this. She remember that they would be playing at Devin's house, so she dialed his home number. What they usually did was pretend to be one person at , then take turns at the computer. James would start out, then when the base was ready, Eric would set the strategy. Devin took over then to see it through. Angela wasn't sure what Kyle did.

Unfortunately, he was the one who picked up the phone.

"Hello? Terry residence."

"Kyle, get Jim now. I need to talk to him."

"Hey baby! We were just talking about you."

"Not now. Something weird happened, and I have to talk to Jim. Now hand the phone to him."

"He's setting a defensive perimeter around our little Zerg base right now. C'mon, girl, you can talk to me. What's wrong in Angie-land?"

"You aren't upset about today?"

"Nah, we're cool, babe. Go ahead now, and tell big daddy Kyle about all your problems."

Angela rolled her eyes. "I just got this package today, and it's this dog tags and BDU uniform that has my name on them."

"No kiddin'. You enlisting, babe? The army did a good job getting you, 'cause I bet you just scare those terrorists right back in their little caves."

"Shut up, Kyle. Anyway, the dog tags say Terran Dominion on them! And the uniform has the arm and whip logo from the game! I'm wearing it right now, and it fits me exactly right. I mean, it's pretty cool, but I don't know where they came from. There's no return address."

"Ooh, wanna know what I'm wearing?"

"Kyle!"

"Hey, hey, chill. I'm just kidding. Well, I didn't send that stuff to you. Ya think the guys pulled this one off?"

"Nah, man. That's not them."

"Hm, I think I better get your Jim off the comp for ya'." Kyle decided. "I think he'll know what to do. Be patient, beautiful, and he'll be right up here for ya." Even though Kyle obviously meant to cover up the reciever, Angela still heard him yell, "Hey Jim, your woman's on the phone!"

The phone was cordless, so while she waited, Angela went back to the livingroom. Searching the box, she found no note or card to explain the weird present. The lettering on the brown paper wrapping was clear and neat; she didn't recognise the handwriting. The dog tags were still on the coffeetable, and Angela reached unconsciously for them. James still wasn't on the phone, so she took the phone from her ear long enough to slip the tags around her neck and tuck them into her shirt.

---

"Hey Jim, your woman's on the phone!"

"Dude man, tell her to chill! I'm trying to rush the noobs!"

"She's all weirded out, man. Somebody sent her a package-"

"Shut up, man! I'm trying to concentrate here. Tell Angie that she can wait a minute."

"Yo man, if something's up with Angie, I think you should go talk to her." Eric said. "You can't just let your girlfriend worry while you play a game."

James sighed. "Fine, you take over then."

He quickly got off of the computer and Eric sat down to take his place. James snatched the phone irritatedly from Kyle and spat out an ill-tempered, "What's going on?"

No response.

"Angie...Angie!"

Silence.

"Talk to me girl..."

Nothing.

Devin approached Kyle and James as the latter placed the phone on its hook. "Hey, what's going on? Is Angie alright?"

"I don't know...she's not answering the phone..." Jim worried. "Dev, you stay here in case she calls back. Me and Kyle will go over there and check things out."


	3. Only Seven More Weeks

She didn't feel anything. In a blinking's time, Angela found that she was no longer home. Everything had melted away, and now the girl stood stunned on a metal platform, in a room of barren walls and unforgiving support beams. Straight ahead was a large trapezoid door, bolted shut with steel bars. Angela didn't have long to peruse her surroudings, however; almost immediately the bars slid into the wall, allowing entrance for two soldiers.

"You're coming with us." one said.

With no more than that, they roughly pulled Angela off the platform and took her down several halls. They went quickly past doorways and a few others who minded their own business. The people didn't seem to regard the girl and her guards at all, but just walked around them or busily operated some of the consoles that dotted every so often on the walls.

After what seemed like forever, a final door stood ahead of them. One soldier reached out and pushed a button on a side panel; the doors opened with a hiss of air. Angela was pulled into the room and pushed before a large wooden desk. And behind that desk sat a middle-aged man, bearded and uniformed.

"Arcturus Mengsk..." Angela murmured.

"Leave us, please."

With that command, both guards left the room. Mengsk waved his hand.

"Come and sit, Miss Parker." he said.

Now Angela has always been a fairly paranoid person, even to the point where she imagines how to handle unlikely situations, like being captured by terrorists or shanghied, and even unrealistic situations, like being abducted by aliens or getting sucked into computer games. Retreating to her memorized plans, Angela calmly sat on one of the chairs provided in front of the desk. She placed her hands on her knees and sat straight up, ready to listen to her environment and continue from there.

"I suppose you're wondering what all of this is about." Mengsk began. "you've got the package I sent you, I see, and that it fits you well. How do you like the uniform?"

"It's fine, but I'm a soldier without an army."

Mengsk chuckled. "Very good, but I'll have to disagree. You have an army in the Dominion Armada. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me ask you this, what delivery service sent my present to you?"

"It was the new one, DHL."

"Yes it was. Do you know what DHL stands for?"

"No, they never said."

"Then I'll tell you. DHL stands for Dominion Hiring League. We created the delivery service to gain funding for this war against the Zerg and, as the name implies, to discover and retrieve people that can readily serve in the Dominion Armada, only if they are willing of course. We don't have the manpower to defeat the Zerg at this time, so we reach out to find the men we need. I can't go into details, but I can tell you that we constantly observe replays at Some people stand out more than others, and I was fairly impressed with your statistics."

"So I'm good enough to fight for the Dominion?"

"More than just fight. You have the strength to command, to impress the victorious ideals the Dominion represents upon the lesser ranking soldiers. Apparently you didn't recogise the rank on your insignia, Captain Parker."

Angela gave a quick look at the patches on the sides of her sleeves. Three stripes, interrupted by the Dominion arm-and-whip logo, were sewn securely on her BDUs. Unconsciously she touched them, noting their tough fibers. A thought, unbidden, arose in her mind.

"But what about the guys?" she asked. "Jim's great, and so's Eric. And I know that Devin is better than all of us. Don't know about Kyle, but if the guys tolerate him, he can't be all that bad at the game."

"I think you know the answer to that."

Angela pondered for a moment. "Oh wait...Jim and Eric play as Zerg. Devin, and I think Kyle, play Protoss. I'm the only Terran player in the group."

"Exactly. And because you spent so much time around different players, you can anticipate possible attacks by those species, though there isn't much need to deal with the Protoss right now. In fact, they'll probably prove increasingly useful in the future."

"But...but I don't have any military training." Angela protested. "How do you know I can lead anyone? It seems like a lot of trouble and waste if I turn out to be a failure."

"You will not be a failure, I can guarantee. As for the training, that will be provided to you at no cost. It will be a difficult time for you, but I don't doubt that you will rise up from basic training a much more efficient and competent leader, and you're quite capable even now. And in time I'm certain the men will respect you. In your case, I expected that the literary appeal alone would convince you to stay."

She sighed. "I have to admit: I'm extremely tempted by all this. I'd love to stay and fight, but I'm not totally convinced of your motives here. I played Starcraft over and over, and I know all about your selfish manuvers that resulted in everybody getting in trouble. Plain and simple, you're a powermongerer. What's supposed to convince me that you aren't going to pull something like that again?"

It was Mengsk's turn to sigh. "In every case, my history comes into consideration. I'm not proud of what I've done, and I hope you believe me when I say I've learned my lessons well. Abandoning people and working for the Zerg will no longer be an option under my watch. Even then, I don't expect you to trust me right off the bat. I simply ask that you look at humanity. Here in the Koprulu Sector we are in constant danger of annihilation. The more unity among us, the better our chances are for survival. We need you, Miss Parker. We need you to stay and strengthen the Dominion, so that humanity can overcome the Zerg forever."

This sent Angela into silent contemplation for a moment.

"One last question." Angela slowly asked. "what if...what if I die out here? Who's going to explain things to my friends back home?"

"That's the beauty of it." Mengsk said, smiling. "You won't die. You see, Dominion scientists have engineered your dog tags to be a connection between your world and this. They hold you in the Koprulu Sector for as long as you wear them. If you should be in a circumstance which will end in death, all you have to do is take off the tags, and you'll be instantly transported back to your home, at exactly the moment you first put them on."

"Oh, I get it. So then I just put them back on to get back to the K-Sector?"

"No, I'm afraid that they only work once. Once you take them off, they're done for good. So you must be careful to only take them off when you know absolutely that you're going to die. Telling the difference between close calls and the real thing isn't going to be easy, but I know that you will be able to handle the responsibility." Mengsk stood up. "Now, I probably should give you some time to think about it. I'll have Harrison and Garrett take you to-"

"No need. I'm in. Ha, what would the guys say if I backed off now? I'm in it to win it."

"Ah, that reminds me..." Mengsk sat back down and reached into his desk. "You'll have to sign this."

He placed before her a contract, indicating where she should sign and initial.

"'I will never tell anyone at home about Operation DHL, nor any matters concerning the Koprulu Sector and happenings therein'. What's this?" Angela asked. "I can get into legal trouble about this? Are you working with the government on this?"

"No, the government knows nothing, I can assure you. Not that I can go into details concerning this, but the legal trouble comes from this side of reality. Don't worry, the context below does allow for 'fanfictions' about what happens. You can write anything you want, as long as the people were you are from think it's fanfiction, and those here don't know you're writing about them. If you have any questions about that when you return home, I can arrange for a representative to meet you."

Angela stared at the contract. Reading it carefully, Angela found that it was subject to Dominion definitions, which could change per circumstance. However, the legal requirements were fairly loose, and if she told the boys that it was all fake, she could tell them.

"Are you certain you don't need to think about this?"

The girl nodded. "I'll sign."

---

"Alright, Jim." Eric began as he and James drove down the street to pick up Devin and Kyle. "Remind me again. Where are we going, once we get the other guys?"

"To the DHL building downtown." James replied. "That's the company that delivered the package to Angie, so the answers have to be there."

He pulled over in front of the Terry's house, where the worried others were waiting in boredom. Quickly Devin and Kyle got into the car, ready for action.

"Okay," Devin said. "Let's review the facts before we get there. Kyle gets the weird call about a package with a Terran Dominion uniform in it, then Jim takes the phone, and nobody's on. So they go check it out."

"So we're there," James continued. "And there's no signs of struggle. Either Angie was kidnapped by somebody she knew well enough not to suspect or be afraid of, or she ran away. Her laptop was still there on the table, and it was still on, so that eliminates the latter option. Her writing is her life, and there's no way she'll go anywhere willingly without it. Kyle calls the cops then."

Devin picked back up the story from there. "The police talk to us, and from them we learn that her next door neighbor was selling her house, so she and a real estate agent were taking pictures of it. One picture catches the delivery dude."

Erin piped up. "Hey, you get a copy of the picture? I had to go home before the police were interviewing everybody. Didn't see it."

Kyle grinned. "I got a hold of it and copied it. Here ya go."

He handed his friend a small picture that portrayed the bearded man casually ringing the doorbell of Angela's house. The deliverer didn't seem worried or that he had something evil in mind. The man just delivered packages, and looked strangely similar to a character in a science fiction game.

"Hey, that dude looks like Mengsk!" Eric noticed.

"I know." Kyle responded. "Anyway, didn't the cops say that the neighbor saw the guy come at 4:15? That would've been like five minutes before the call."

"Yeah," Devin said. "But she didn't see anybody else come near the house. That means the key is that package."

James agreed. "Uh huh. But when me and Kyle got there, the box didn't have anything but tissue paper in it. No return address or nothing. That's why we have to go to DHL. They have to know something about the thing."

Eric looked again at the picture. "You know, I don't really see any older people workin' for DHL. Mostly just teens that need the jobs. This dude is middle aged. Maybe that's nothing to care about, but it just doesn't seem right."

---

Mengsk was right. Basic training was the hardest thing that Angela ever had to do. Every day was filled with drilling and obstacle courses, instructors yelling at her and rude guys trying to hit on her, short mealtimes and cold nights in cement barracks. Even in the hottest of days, those darn barracks felt frozen at nights.

The barracks were divided into small rooms that fit two people and their various gear. Two beds were against opposite walls, as well as two sets of drawers and two small areas meant for hanging up uniforms. Angela was the only female there at that time, so that meant she had no roommate nor one to talk to at all, unless she dared speak with the "perv idiots" that she trained with. In the room, that was an advantage; the space was cramped already, and Angela wasn't sure she wanted to share it.

Every morning started at five fifteen with PT in the cold and darkness. A field was provided for the exercises, which consisted of quick stretches, then on to pushups, situps, and various other anaerobic activities. Next was the daily mile run, which actually varied in length according to the good mood of the PT officer, Sgt. Bailey. Let's just say that oftentimes the run stretched beyond even two miles.

After all that, there was barely enough time to catch a quick shower before changing for breakfast. And there was no time for Angela, who had to avoid getting spied on by the guys. Fortunately there was deodorant aplenty, and if she stayed up late, she could manage a weekly shower.

All of the cadets in training had to go with their companies to meals. Angela's group, Charlie company, was lead by the ever irritable Sergeant Ricker, who made certain that ever cadet under him was line and punctual. He was an uncomparable brown-noser that nobody liked, but tolerable.

Once breakfast was over, it was drill until lunch, then battle scenario and weapons training. When cadet Parker first arrived, she assumed that the planet was Korhal, but the varying features convinced her otherwise. Korhal is a desert world, while this place had its share of forests, grasslands, mountains, and a few deserts of its own. That meant that the cadets could practice fighting the Zerg on any terrain, and it was torture. Heavy armor and difficult to handle weapons compounded on the uniqueness of a particular training ground wore the cadets down steadily, at least until they began to build up an endurance.

After that was dinner, followed by a free hour that the cadets needed to prepare their rooms for inspection. The regulations were truly annoying. Beds had to be made a specific way, hung up clothes had to be equidistant from each other, footwear had to be arranged on the floor, and even the drawers had to be organized properly. On top of all that, the cadets were made to wear their uniforms, and that added a whole new set of rules to follow. Inspection was done by several older soldiers, who were quick to insult those who failed to meet the regulations completely. If something was only the slightest bit off, say if a boot was placed at the head of the bed instead of the foot, those inspectors had every right to turn over beds, throw clothing everywhere, generally making a mess of things. And that poor cadet had to clean everything up by the next day's inspection. Far too often Angela was that cadet.

After inspection was the night course, that reviewed the principles of stealth and nightvision with the cadets, as well as travelling as a large contingent of soldiers. Nightmarches were common, and lasted until minutes before the lights-out at eleven p.m., and sometimes later. Even though Angela spent her days completely busy and had few hours of sleep, it was hard for her to drift off. Homesickness was common, and she'd seen it overcome too many others to succumb herself, but nevertheless she would cry at night, silently. She missed the sound of any familiar voice, and even hearing that stupid Kyle would cheer her up immensely.

James, however, possessed most of her thoughts. In the Dominion Armada, the trainees were required to serve ten weeks of basic training, and Angela would count the days with James in mind. He was her strength, as always, and Angela didn't think he would approve of her if she just gave up. He expected his girl to be tough, so tough she would be.

However that didn't stop her from every night counting, "Only nine more weeks...only eight more weeks....only seven..."


	4. Guys are Disgusting

Once again the four boys were piled in the car, but this time all were solemn. The DHL office proved to be a fruitless endeavor. No one knew about the Mengsk-like delivery man; apparently he didn't work there. James managed to get the numbers of several other branches and the address of the main corporation headquarters, yet none of his questions were answered.

Eric knew one of the employees. His own uncle was in charge of the paperwork and hiring of employees. But all the nephew could get from the conversation was a short statement of not being involved.

"Sorry, bud, don't know anything about the guy. Doesn't look familiar or anything. Maybe you should check with headquarters. Scratch that, leave it to the police. If the HQ had anything to be delivered to this area, they'd send it to us. Whoever's taken your friend must be dangerous, and I know he doesn't work here. Must have stolen a truck and uniform somewhere along the line." With that, the uncle promptly kicked them out of DHL for 'disrupting' proper office goings-on.

So the boys just drove on down the road, planning for their next move. Or rather, Kyle, Devin, Eric were. James was sitting quietly in the backseat, even though it was his car, silently mourning. Kyle sat next to him, not certain what to do for his friend so sat uncomfortably.

Devin, at the wheel, made a suggestion. "Eric, your uncle said that a truck and uniform must have been stolen if Mengsk-dude had it. All we have to do is check with the DHL places around here and see which one had a truck and stuff taken."

"Aren't the police working on that?" Eric piped up. "Maybe if we let them check on that, Kyle can get his dad to search the cop files and say what happens."

"But what if..." Kyle guessed. "What if it's a conspiracy? Say that they don't report the truck stolen, or if it wasn't stolen at all. Then the cop records wouldn't show anything. Not the DHL records either."

"Man," James muttered. "That's ridiculous. You're starting to get Angie's knack for fiction."

"Hey, all I'm sayin' is you never know."

"Whatever."

As Devin pulled the car into his driveway, he noticed a Hispanic man at his door, as if he was ringing the doorbell. The man turned as the car stopped, and the boys got out of the car.

The stranger approached, lifting a police badge. "Hi, boys. I'm Inspector Pablo Guerrez from the TDPD and I need to talk to you four for a moment."

"Do you know something about Angie?" James excitedly asked.

"No, I know as much as you boys have told the police. But that's not what I'm here to talk about. It seems that you like to take matters in your own hands. I've received several calls today from the local DHL and from Miss Angela's neighbors telling me that you four have been badgering people for information."

"Badgering?" Eric exclaimed. "We've just been asking questions."

"Questions you had no legal right to ask. And I know that you've been searching through Miss Angela's house, and I hope I don't have to tell you how illegal it is to disturb a crime scene."

The boys were dumbfounded.

"Look, you seem like good guys, don't get me wrong. But I'm going to have to ask that you leave this matter to the police. Angela was a good friend of yours, I understand that, but that doesn't give you the right to ignore federal law and go vigilante. If you continue doing so, I'm afraid I'll be obligated to arrest you. Do you understand?"

"Uh, yeah, we get it." The boys agreed.

"Good."

With that, Inspector Guerrez just walked off. He didn't seem to even have a car waiting for him. While the others went inside to discuss this weird, frustrating situation further, Kyle just stared after the Inspector with curiosity in his eyes.

"Hey guys," he spoke up. "We live in Southerland, and that guy said he was from 'TDPD'. What police department is that?"

Devin turned from the doorway. "Nah man, he didn't say TDPD. He said SLPD. That's Southerland Police Deparment, alright."

"No way! It was definitely TDPD. It's gotta stand for something important..."

James scoffed. "Dude, he said SLPD. Get your hearing checked."

"Whatever, man. Hey, does this really mean we're backin' off?"

Eric shook his head. "I don't see what we can do. We can't help Angie if we're arrested, and we can't help her doing nothing. I say we live life, and let the police take this. They got the manpower, resources, and authority to go in where we can't, so it's theirs now."

"I dunno." Devin said quietly. "I think we should do something for her mom. Talk to her, try and see if we can like do any chores or something that needs to be done."

"Good idea, man." James said as he went up the porch stairs. "Let's go inside and figure out what we can do."

Devin and Eric went in, but Kyle called James back from the door.

"So, what?" Kyle asked. "You're just gonna give up? I thought you guys cared a lot about her."

James came and sat solemnly on the porch steps. "We do. But you know what that Guerrez guys said. And Eric was right about us not helping her if we're in jail. I don't know...I think Angie would be happy if we just let go and be happy, you know, live life to the fullest. She would want it that way..."

Kyle was shocked. "Dude man, you sound like you think she's dead."

"Well, yeah. I kinda think she is. I mean, Angie's tough and all, but if someone can steal her away without leaving a shard of evidence..." James sighed. "It really doesn't look good for her. If she was alright, Angie would've emailed me or called. I know what she's like."

"Whoa...I mean, don't you love her enough to have faith? Maybe she can't reach you right now."

"It's been a week. We had a system. She always keeps her cell phone on her, and I'm on speed dial."

"But man, she always keeps her laptop with her, so you guys always say, and that was at her house."

"Look man," James stood up. "I love her enough to know when to let go."

James went into the house, leaving his bewildered friend in the yard. As the door shut, Kyle turned and looked back, in the general direction that Inspector Guerrez had gone. He walked to the street and searched the neighborhood with his eyes, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Just houses and cars, fences and dogs, and the occasional toy abandoned on the lawn of a family home.

"TDPD..." Kyle murmured to himself. "Terran Dominion Police Department....I've so got to stop playing Starcraft for a while. It's really starting to mess with my head."

---

The room was dark. There was barely enough light to see two people, both sitting at a table. One was Arcturus Mengsk. The other was a middle-aged man with very neatly trimmed hair that formed deep sideburns and covered his upper lip. He pushed up his wire-rim glasses as he gazed at the source of light in the room, the TV monitor. On it was the image of Kyle, retreating back inside Devin's house with reluctance.

"He's beginning to suspect something, Arcturus." he said rationally. "I don't think it's safe for him to be on the streets when he could possibly do something to ruin our project."

"There's always people like him, Bill." Mengsk responded. "They want to hold on, and it's natural. Don't worry, by the time this is over, Angela will have returned to her own time, and none of this would ever have happened."

Bill shifted in his chair as the lights went up and the monitor went off. "That doesn't mean that we can afford to be careless."

"I can't monitor every single individual that enters the program, Bill, no matter what your organization pays. There isn't enough time. I do have an empire to run here."

His friend shruggled. "Alright, but I'm still going to have to watch that boy. Oh yes, before I forget, there was something I meant to ask you. I've noticed that every single female that is enlisted into the program is isolated from the other girls. Why is this?"

Mengsk smiled. "It's a proven motivational technique that I've been using for years. I've found that most lonely soldiers are willing to do anything for an attractive woman. If ladies such as Angela are dedicated to the cause, the men will go through any kind of danger with them. Kerrigan herself proved that when she worked for me. Do you think many of those soldiers would have gone down to Tarsonis if she wasn't leading them?"

"I would say it depends if their possible leader was charismatic."

"Those types are few and far between. The only one that even qualified in that manner was Raynor, and he has no loyalty to the Dominion. Besides, when women are gathered together, there is a huge tendency to argue and fight amongst themselves, I don't understand quite why. It's simply not productive for the kind of cohesiveness the Armada needs."

"Now hold your horses, Arcturus. There's nothing wrong with a good cat fight every now and then." Bill grinned.

The Emperor laughed. "I see your point."


	5. Movement

Weeks passed slowly for Angela. She spent her time in a constant state of lonliness and exhaustion, working for sixteen hours a day, organizing her room for one, and one for personal hygene. Work consisted of anything from cleaning barracks to destroying small colonies of Zerg, something Angela never expected. Her unit had already lost thirty cadets in these skirmishes, really pressing upon the survivors how necessary their training exercises were.

On the bright side, our heroine had become quite stealthy. Having to dodge an onslaught of male hormones increased her skill to almost that of a ghost. She learned to anticipate when the guys tried to spy on her or hit on her. Several cadets sported an ugly bruise from a punch or kick, and others would murmur amongst themselves about "going too far" or "that time of the month" or "lesbian" as the victim passed.

Mengsk knew this, and in spite of himself, began to be proud of Cadet Parker. She was turning into exactly what the Emperor wanted her to be: a bitter soldier, skilled in warmongering. Already he wanted her to lead the final expedition that would determine which soldiers passed basic training. It wasn't too hard to pass. All you had to do was survive.

While the time didn't go quickly, Angela was surprised to find that it was the last week of basic, starting tomorrow. Today was Sunday, and Emperor Mengsk himself would be addressing all of the units and announcing which cadet "had shown the most leadership proficiency and deadly skill" to lead their particular unit. Angela didn't have to guess who would lead hers.

As she finished putting on her uniform, Cadet Parker could hear the guys talking from their bunks. They boasted their destructive ability with particular glory, pronouncing fear upon their enemies. For a while they targeted the Zerg (making several inappropriate comments about Kerrigan), but then a cadet started to brag about fighting Protoss.

"Yeah, you know them reptiles don't stand a chance against me."

"Chuck, get a life. Those things are like twice as tall and strong as you."

"So what?"

"Yeah man, and they can read your mind. They know your strategy the second you think it."

"Whatever, whatever. I'll just stop thinking and concentrate on impulses. I can frag them Toss easy."

"Hey, must be easy to stop thinking when ya never started."

"Shut up."

Angela didn't pay much attention. It was typical stupid male talk, and was only white noise to her, especially after ten weeks of the nonsense. She used the mirror to adjust her rank. Cadet basic rank was not sewn on the uniform. It was just simpler to make metal pins that pierced lapels so that if the cadet died (or got promoted quickly, but that wasn't likely to happen) the rank could be reused. It was a pain to line up the rank according to protocol, and every cadet pricked themselves to bleeding at least once.

Suddenly it was quiet. The guys weren't talking loudly anymore. Angela pricked up her ears; something had to be wrong.

"Oh yeah baby..."

"...Got that when she was in the shower..."

She immediately rushed from her room, finding a cluster of the boys surrounding one named Cadet Oliver, the daredevil of Charlie Company. He tried to hide something from Angela behind his back as she approached, but there was no point in it. She punched him straight in the stomach then snatched. It was a photograph of her in the shower.

"I can't believe you!" Angela shouted while she began to kick Oliver repeatedly in the stomach. "Stupid idiot! Don't you ever do that again or I'll kill you!"

With one final kick aimed at the balls, Angela tore up the picture and threw it in the nearby waste can. The boys watched in dismay and disappointment.

Another cadet snorted, while Angela went angrily back to her room. "Lesbi-"

A fist to the face and he was down, cursing and cradling his broken nose.

Later-

If the boys had been angry at Angela for what she did that morning, they were totally furious over Mengsk's decision to put her in charge of survival training. The return to the barracks was completely silent; the angry boys were too far upset to express until they reached the privacy of their rooms, filling the night with curses and proclamations. Angela, laying quietly in her bunk, heard every one of their biting words.

"That's girl's lucky to even be here." one complained. "Now she's set up over us."

"Yeah, she's such a weak link."

"We should get rid of her on the mission."

"Hey now, I ain't about to shoot or feed any girl to the Zerg. It just ain't decent."

"That's not what I mean. I mean just disregard everything she says and put somebody else in charge. Jenks, you've got my vote!"

"Sure I'll do it. Ain't no fragile female tellin' me what to do."

"Hey, keep quiet, she'll hear!"

"Ah man, you're scared of her?"

"What's it matter if she hears? Nothin' she can do about it."

Private Parker smiled slightly. If there was nothing she could do about it, Mengsk never would have put her in charge. All of these guys were no worse than Kyle. Even in a large group they could be intimidated, and they had their weaknesses. Turning over in her blanket, Angela yawned and tried to filter out the boys' talk. Not worried that her bed would be too wrinkly to pass inspection tomorrow, she just slept the sleep of one who needs it.

The next day-

Mengsk sat comfortably in his soft office armchair. His office was a simple workstation, filled with a practical desk to match his chair, that being topped with a flatscreen computer for whatever communication he needed with his officers. A large window, presently with its curtains closed, let out to his tiny balcony from which Mengsk could see the city's main business cluster. His entire right wall was a monitor, now carefully tuned to the exact color of his plain green walls. Everything was fairly modest, for an emperor, dispelling the constant rumor that Mengsk constantly ruled like a king from a vastly overindulgent throne. In fact, the only "artsy fartsy" thing about his workspace was the woolen arm-and-whip banner behind the desk, hanging on the wall.

Through this room the Terran Dominion was run, and Arcturus spent the majority of his day there. He leaned back, casually reading a report on the current status of New Oldham transportation while chewing on a stem of his reading glasses (he never used them to read). A knock thudded off Mengsk's door.

"Come in." the Emperor said, knowing that whoever could make it this far past the bodyguards had to be friendly. Bill came in as Mengsk put away his papers and glasses into a drawer.

"Well, Bill, I didn't think you would actually come this time." Arcturus smiled and gestured to a seat. "I've been sending invitations for the past five years, but this is a first. What made you change your mind?"

"Don't get me wrong, I've been wanting to come and see for a while now." Bill answered. "It's just that with all the production of Brood War, other games, and now Starcraft Two, there's been no time. Finally Blizzard tells me, 'Go out and do some research', so I'm actually out here with some folk filming Protoss activity. Had to sneak out, but they know what they're doing."

Mengsk grinned. "If you trust people, they will get the job done."

"So, when do the trials start?"

"In about ten minutes. All of the companies Alpha through Foxtrot now going through basic just simply have to survive on the Zerg-occupied asteroid Tyruis III. They will be separated as far as they can, and it's up to them entirely what they will do about the situation."

"How many of them are program cadets?"

"I'm not certain of the specific number at the moment. There is simply too many to remember. But we tend to average around fifty per company. Come, let's get something from the kitchen before this starts."


	6. Puppet Men

Just like the instructor had said, conquering the base hadn't been hard at all. It was obviously newly formed Zerg establishment only had resistance in the form of two sunken colonies and less than twelve zerglings. Still Roper and Jinson were casualties, and their deaths put a heavy depression on the group.

The instructor laid out several rules for them before they left, telling them how graduation worked. The first stage was to take down a small and weak Zerg base, and as soon as the last living building was destroyed, the timer, controlled by the instructor, began to count down from three days. Those three days they would be required to survive while the Zerg came to avenge their loss with greater numbers and more ferocious resistance. Once the timer reached zero, the Armada dropships would come and take away the survivors. Those cadets that survived graduated. These Zerg were not under Kerrigan's control, of course; if she was fighting them she would have enough resources to utterly destroy the Terran cadets and punish their leaders for training them in such a way. No, these Zerg belonged to a cerebrate.

So, entering into the second stage, things were going on well for the first day, by appearance. The base was coming along well. Bunkers and missle turrets were being built, two barracks were already complete and the machine shop was already working on tanks. A line of vultures busily planted spider mines around the mineral clusters to ensure safe gathering. The comsat station was built and already working; the cadets already knew that the enemy was stationed to their northeast and preparing to return the attack.

But Cadet Parker wasn't doing a thing but standing idly and angrily by as the others packed into bunkers, piloted their craft, or ran to their stations. Just as they had planned, the boys had put Jenkins in charge, and he was barking out orders rapidly and sure. Not to Angela, but she was forced to either follow along with the others or be left behind. Any time that she happened to give an order, no one listened. The word had gone out to everyone, apparently, and nobody bothered to even look at her. However, the upside to being ignored is being able to go wherever you want, and the others have to stop ignoring you to stop you. Angela was thus able to go and listen as Jenkins, Mateo, Benin, and Roberts planned their next move in the command center.

"Alright, Benin, what's the Zerg doin' right now?"

"Buildin' up pretty fast. Looks like they hope to get us at once and be done with it, cause it takes a lot of resources to make that many units. Just east of us, about one'n half miles out, there's a force of zerglings backed by hydras. Last sweep showed that some guardians are showin' up, but we got some time cause they seem to be waitin' for more. Whenever they do attack, it looks like they're gonna run for it, probably with their overlords dropping critters in on us as well."

"Okay, Roberts, what's the status on tanks?"

"Rollin' out like planned, got a good number out. Missile turrets are up, but I'm pretty sure we're gonna need more with the guardians 'n all. Wraiths are building, but we don't have enough."

"Resources?"

Mateo spoke up. "Doin' alright, but I think we better have more SCVs before we're through to mine additional vespene to keep us goin' on that."

Jenkins was silent for a moment. "I don't like this. The armada wasn't gonna send us out if we were gonna get overrun. No use in sendin' your own to the slaughter pointless and all. Maybe somebody up there underestimated the Zerg forces or somethin' cause it sure don't look good. The only good point is if they're puttin' too many resources on this attack, and we make it, they're not gonna be able to send another wave like that at us. In any case, we can't meet them out there, so here's where the fight's gonna be. Alright, get out more tanks, and build more bunkers and turrets. We'll need more wraiths too."

Angela scoffed. "What are you gonna do? This is a base, use your buildings to protect you."

Ignoring her, the three men replied a quick "Yes, sir." to their commander and began to walk away.

"No, hold on." she refused to let them leave, and put herself between them and the door. "You're gonna listen to me, okay? We don't need more bunkers, we've got plenty. What we need to do is surround ourselves with supply depots. The zerglings are stupid, so when they won't be able to get around the depots, the fire from the tanks and bunkers will confuse them, and they won't be able to attack. The tanks should focus on the hydras, letting splash damage hit the 'lings, while the bunkers take out the zerglings in front in case any of them suddenly get smart."

It was fairly quiet for a moment, but the looks on the guys faces said more than their mumblings probably did. Jenkins, reluctant to acknowledge that a girl could outsmart him on strategy, piped up with sarcasm. "Think that'll work, Parker? Them guardians can take out the supply depots easily, cause they got longer range than we do. What are you going to do about that?"

"Stop building wraiths and make valkeries. The tanks should keep the hydras pretty busy where they can't protect 'em, but guardians are really chicken. Scare easily, so when they are out of range, the valkeries switch to hitting the overlords, cutting out the zerg's detectors. once the overlords are gone, you can use the wraiths you have, cloak them, then attack from above and reinforce our line."

Things began to change during that moment. All the guys were on the verge of agreeing, yet were still clinging to the hems of their pride. But Jenkins was the one who had to decide, and him the most proud of all. He stared at Angela, obviously conflicted. Angela, in turn, stared back, desperate and angry. She wasn't about to waste her time in Starcraft by just dying right out. This was her story, her life. Besides, the slaughter would be terrible. Angela had never seen anyone die before she came to this universe, especially not in such horrible ways, but even the sound effects on the game made her crawl. None of those cadets were ready for what they were seeing, and the only way to be ready was to live through it. Emphasis on live.

"Please, Jenkins, you've got to listen to me..."

Another moment passed. Jenkins was wavering, and everyone could see it.

"Jenkins...you know I'm right..."

"Don't listen to her, man."

"Yeah, don't let no woman tell you what to do."

Slowly Jenkins made his response. "Well...Parker, that's quite an idea you have. But I don't think it will work. I think that our best plan of action would be to surround ourselves with supply depots and start buildin' valkeries, like I said before. You keep up the good work though. Someday you might be a good ol' sergeant or somethin', if you learn a thing or two first, honey. Boys, go 'head, you got my orders."

Mateo, Roberts and Benin looked at him like he was crazy.

"Guys...you have _my _ orders. Get to it."

The men went off, getting the idea but still not pleased with it. Angela, relieved and feeling that her work was done, began to walk away.

"Parker, get back here." Jenkins' voice rung out as if he had a few other choice words to say. "You're goin' to listen to me now."

Angela usually never responded when people talked to her with that kind of a voice. But this time she allowed it, turning back to glare at the offensive male. Jenkins returned the hateful stare as he marched straight at her, getting right in her face.

Angela didn't waver for a moment as he began, "Don't you ever show me down like that in front of the guys again."

"Oh what? So I was just supposed to let us all die like that?"

"Shut up, I was about to get into strategy-"

"Couldn't have been good strategy if you did what I said!"

"Parker, I've had about enough of your crap! You better settle down the rest of this exercise or I'll make sure that this is a nice little hell for you! Understand? Hey, where you goin'?"

Cadet Parker was already halfway to the door when she turned back. "I'm going to pilot an SCV. We don't have a lot of time to play around and make this a hell for anybody, in fact the Zerg are doing a good enough job of that already. So you can yell at me all you want, but I'm going to go survive."

She stormed off, not about to listen to whatever he was shouting behind her. An SCV was already waiting for her at the door, and if he wanted to pretend he was in charge, she would play along. For now. Jenkins had his strings, and she could figure out how to pull them and make her little puppet dance.


	7. Alcohol and Bravery

"Adams!" the woman called out as she ran out of the small, wooden house. "The Zerg are comin'!"

Orville "Sam" Adams looked up from his charts, annoyed. "Whadya mean, Bacardi? I ain't got no time for this, I'm plannin' out Corona Town's seed grain for next spring! I ain't got no time for nonsense."

The town's Chief knew that far too often Melissa Bacardi's imagination, or fear, rather, ran away from her. She was always afraid that plagues would come in or blights would destroy their crops or the Zerg would run them over and destroy them. But in all Orville's years of Chiefhood, indeed his entire lifetime, no Zerg had ever bothered about the planet Budwise II. It was just a small fringe planet many distant miles from most of the Terran worlds in the K-Sector. The only reason it had been populated at all was due to the rumor that it was rich in resources, enough to compete with the Kel-Morian Combine's vast mines. That rumor proved false, and soon the Confederacy lost interest in it. About that time, the Protoss decimated Chau Sara, and the few colonists on Budwise II were abandoned.

Frightened and alone, the Budwisers (as they came to be called) set up their own way of life, not entirely appalled with the happenings that left them there. They refused to aknowledge the Confederacy anymore, and revelled in their new freedom despite the hardships of farming life. The Confederacy, even if it wasn't distracted, didn't care about them enough to quell their rebellion. In fact, they would have been left entirely without news of the outside world if it weren't for their own scouts, who were likely the best in stealth strategy of all humanity.

As it turned out, the Zerg didn't care about them either. Perhaps they were two small in number to be worth infesting or conquering. In any case, the people Corona Town, Miller City, and Porterisville lived quiet, rural lives in the middle of nowhere. The only reason Bacardi howled and whined about the Zerg was that some idiot working for Mengsk wanted them to send their young men out against the broods and to "extend the protection of the Dominion over the noble Budwisers". Needless to say, they had refused the offer. Apparently Mengsk didn't care enough to push the matter any further.

"Scout were just sendin' in their reports," Melissa continued, out of breath. "And the Zerg're coming from all directions! Oh, and Chad Guiness from Porterisville is callin' you! Waitin' on the line inside, he is."

Adams narrowed his eyes in thought. If Chad was on the line, then there might be something to this. He handed the seed charts to the young men assisting him then huffed his way inside the little cabin. This cabin, small as it was, was the most important one in all of Corona Town, because it held most of the technology that the Confederacy had sent along with them for their expedition. It was the only means, excepting a five mile hike to Porterisville, and eight more to Miller City, to communicate with them. On the large monitor ahead of him, Adams could see the grim faces of Chief Guiness and his deputy, Mike O'Doule.

"What's going on?" Orville feared the answer he might recieve.

"You've probably scanned already, and you notice that there's a bunch of us from Porteris headed your way." Guiness said gravely. "Those're the civillians, and it'd be nice if ya could shelter 'em in your caves. The soldiers will be headed down there shortly to set up some defenses, cause Corona Town's more defensible. Be there in like less than three hours, cause the Zerg'll be comin' before tomorrow."

That bit of news, the soldiers and not the attack, pleased Adams. Chad's army, known as the Stouts, were dangerous men, because they were most often sent out on scouting and space hunting missions. Many an unawares space pirate found his booty, including slaves, put to more peaceable use upon Budwise II rather than be consumed or sold for themselves. None of the pirates ventured near the planet, because there was no one to steal from (that they knew of), but every so often one of their number would disappear, only to return as debris. Sam was glad to have these soldiers protect Corona Town. While his men were no less brave, they were farmers rather than fighters.

Something bothered the Chief. "Guiness...what about Miller city? Will'ya also send some Stouts to them?"

"Haven't you heard? They were already overrun by the Zerg, and nobody made it out alive."

---

Zzzzzzzzzzzt. Zzzzzzzzzt. Snap, snap, crack...

Those were all the sounds that Parker heard as she mined the blue crystal. She used to wonder how miners could work underground with all the dirt and grime, not to mention dynamite. This kind of mining, however, felt safe to the point where it was boring. All you had to do was zap the minerals in the weaker spots until a chunk of the crystal came off, then grab the chunk with the SCV's mechanical claws, and haul it out to the command center. As long as you didn't hit yourself with the laser, then you wouldn't blow up.

It was tedious, and at first Angela wished she hadn't taken the job for herself. It was the kind of work where you wanted to get lost in your thoughts, but the base's time was running short so she had to pay attention and hurry. That meant staring at a vast blueness for almost a minute. Yet she knew that she would have to do something noncombatative like this, because Jenkins was far too old-fashioned to let her get close to the fight. She wouldn't fight him on that point. Parker's plan involved it, so she would just have to be patient.

However, her opinion soon changed on the mining. The battle started.

It was horrifying, from what she could hear. Alternately screams and snarls, guns and shots of acid, sounded across the plains, like percussions in a bad techno mix. Angela couldn't tell if there were more deaths on her side or the swarm's, because she wouldn't let her ears aknowledge the death-cries of her fellow cadets and they reproduced the sounds of shrieking, dying zerglings. Fairly shortly she couldn't tell the difference between the two.

Every so often she would catch the eyes of the other SCV pilots. Some of them looked scared, and one particularly young boy was fighting back tears; he had seen his best friend get hit by a guardian. Some were mumbling quickly to themselves for the distraction, trying hard not to believe they were witnessing a battle. Even Angela found herself quietly singing "Blind Willie McTell". Only one cadet seemed to have control of himself: Cadet Killian. He was one of fifteen survivors of last year's failing cadet squadron, and apparently this battle was going better than last time's, because his face was as calm and furious as crumbled stone. He even seemed to laugh a bit at the frightened others.

But before she realized it, everything was over. The last of the hydralisks were being finished off by the tanks, and there were no more zerglings to help them. The only guardians, as far as Angela could see, were two that had crashed in the ruin of two destroyed supply depots. Whatever overlords there had been were already dead or run off back to their own. The boys were either carrying off the casualties (a fortunately small number) or celebrating the victory with self-proclamations of human might against their enemies.

Even Jenkins was cheerful. "Alright! It's an easy road from here on out. Let's get back up our defenses and get ready to sit this out. Gregory and Oscar, get on repairing our missle turrets! Killian, get up another bunker. Parker, you build us up some more supply depots, and Killian, you help her when you're done on the bunker. We got another 45 hours to go, so let's move out!"

_"42 hours?"_ Angela thought. _"It feels like only minutes ago we passed the sixty hour mark."_

Time was running out. If she was going to initiate her plan, it would have to be soon. And wasting resources on building more supply depots, when they had more than enough, was certainly not going to work towards her goal.

"Hey Jenkins!"

"What is it, Parker? Didn't I give you somethin' to do already?"

"Yeah, but I got a question. You said that if we survived the first attack, the Zerg wouldn't be strong enough to get up the force to attack us again, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. Get to work."

"No, hold on. Now if the Zerg are so weak, what's to stop us right now from going and destroying the base they got us from? We've got more resources than they do."

The others around looked at Jenkins, thinking that it was a reasonable question.

"Because..." began the cautious boy. "They might get resources quick and stomp us back down. Then we wouldn't make it at all and-"

"Wait, wait, wait. You just said that they wouldn't be strong enough. If they can get reinforcements, then they can take us down, even if we just sit on our butts and wait for it to happen. I say that we should go in and make a name for ourselves, to really stand out, you know? Why not?" Angela turned back to Jenkins. "Is it or is it not possible?"

He scoffed. "It ain't worth it. People died today, Parker, and more will if we go on. We're safer here and that's the end o' that."

This reaction wasn't unexpected, and in fact she had planned for it. But it was the hardest part, and she had to make certain to appeal to Jenkins' natural pride.

"No it's not. Don't you see that this is just the beginning of us fighting the Zerg? It's not just a matter of survival out there, it's a matter of winning! Victory _is_ survival, not just sitting around because the Zerg don't have enough to get us at the moment. Can't you tell that this is the real thing? We should strike while we have a chance!"

She failed. Jenkins wasn't swayed, and the others, loyal to him despite her logic, weren't swayed either, though some of them did have doubts about staying and waiting for the hours to run up when they could do something important for the Dominion. All of them knew that the instructor above was watching them from above, and that anything they could to to impress him would be important. But no, they still refused to listen.

"Look," she tried again. "I'll take a science vessel and go scout out as close as I can get to the Zerg base. I'll report back what I see and maybe we can take it out. What's wrong with trying?"

But few were listening. Jenkins was already barking out orders, orders that were reluctantly followed. Everyone was returning to whatever various duties they doing before, wondering if Angela would say anything else, but realizing she probably wouldn't. Jenkins didn't even bother to tell her to get back to work or anything, he just walked away.

"Hey, Parker is it?"

Angela turned around to find a curious Killian behind her.

"Yeah."

"It's cool what you said, and you're right. Jenks was all sayin' that people shouldn't die, but what's the point of sittin' here if we aren't gonna avenge 'em? I've seen to much to just let the Zerg get off like that."

"That's what I was trying to say!"

"I know. Hey, I got clearance for a science vessel. Why don't we go scout? It's a good enough idea."

"Thanks, dude. Let's go."

---

The review who can name all of the alcoholic drinks I used in this chapter gets a cookie. :)


	8. Parker in Charge

"Alright, we got what we need." Killian said. "Let's get some vultures and get out of here before we lose any more time."

Specifically, they had spent the last half hour getting some supply, whatever they could without Jenkins getting too annoyed. For the moment, the wannabe leader was ignoring them, but he was sure to say something if they took too much. Not that they cared that much; they just didn't want to bother with him. And thankfully none of the others were paying attention to either of the two. The conspiracy against Angela was still holding strong, and Killian...he wasn't right in the head, as far as any of the cadets considered him.

He was one of the fifteen survivors of last year's class, and thus far he was the most sane of the bunch. A few of them even had to undergo a memory wipe, and were subsequently given chairborn jobs within the military, because their sanity was corrupted, and no one knew if going back out would send them to an asylum again. A few were lost limbs and were allowed to leave the military, then spent the remainder of their years criticizing the terrors of war from their back porches. In fact, Reko Killian was the only one still in the fighting forces at all.

What happened exactly? No one knows for certain, because in earlier days the cadets weren't monitored from space. Instead agents were planted among them to report the happenings in the camp, subtley so that the trainees wouldn't feel badgered by the trainers. And that was the only involvement that the Dominion had in their training; they were just brought and dropped off until the time was complete.

When the Dominion recruiters returned, they were shocked to find that the entire camp had been overrun, despite the fact they had taken tedious time in selecting a careful place to insure that it wouldn't happen. It would literally take a platoon full of fools to lose so badly to the Zerg. The shocking part was that this particular set of cadets were the strongest strategically and mentally before they were sent to the final assignment. They worked together like a well oiled machine, like an organism. Each cadet knew his place, and performed above par.

But in the end, only fifteen, and no leaders among them, had actually survived. They were found scattered under broken machinery, hidden in ruined bunkers, and barely alive out in the open. Reko was also in the open, but his injuries were strangely minor, excepting the huge gap in his memory. All of them seemed not to remember anything, besides various visions of death and destruction. Everyone wondered what must have gone wrong, and the blame went squarely upon the shoulders of the location specialists. And to this day the cadets were monitored from above, so that if things got too hot to handle they would be aided in retreat. Notedly, this has never happened, because the cadets usually managed on their own, and "too hot to handle" isn't a very specifically defined term.

In any case, most of the others were very careful around Killian. Truthfully they judged him more by his fellow survivors rather than himself, but he was a bit off nevertheless. While many cringed at the thought of battle, or tried to ready themselves as it came, Killian seemed to be truly eager for it, and not just eager for glory and fame. He wanted to defeat the Zerg; it was like he was an army-slogan come to life. All Leila knew of this was rumor and speculation, so it didn't bother her very much. It was just nice to have someone willing to go with her, not judging her because she was of the fragile gender.

As they biked further and further away from the base, Killian noticed something.

"Hey, Parker, why do you fiddle with your tags like that?"

"What?" Angela muttered, not really paying attention. She didn't like having her train of thought interrupted.

"Yeah, you're twisting them in your fingers. What's up with that?"

"I don't know. Guess I'm fidgety or something."

Reko looked at her strangely, as if he was timid yet hopeful. "DHL?"

Finally she turned to look at him. "You've been taken by the Dominion Hiring League too?"

"Yeah, like a year and a half ago, or something like that. I shoulda kept a journal or something, cause I forget easy. Nah, where'd you get picked up?"

"I live in Southerland, California and play Starcraft with my boyfriend James and our friends. I was just about to graduate high school when this dude who looks like Mengsk delivered my BDUs. Just couldn't resist trying them on."

"Wait, you're staying here away from your boyfriend? Why don't you just go back to him? He's probably really worried."

"I really should, but even he knows how obsessed with Starcraft I am." Leila laughed. "Besides, when I get back it'll be like I never left at all. Thing should work out just fine, and heck, I'll probably get to write Starcraft II. Where are you from?"

"Kamehameha, Hawaii. I was going to college when I got the uniform, but the delivery person didn't look like a Starcraft character. It would have been cool if she looked like Kerrigan though."

"Infested or uninfested?"

"Heck, I'll take either one." Killian grinned.

"Ew, how sick!" Leila spat. "Well, you're definitely a dude."

"Hehe. Well anyway, I was on drill team, that's ROTC and not cheerleading, mind you. I spun rifles, had my own M-1 Garand, and I was the best in Hawaii. In high school when my team went to Nationals in Daytona Beach, Florida I got first place individual exhibition two years in a row, and my senior year I got the commander's award. I was only a sophmore at college and I'm already winning trophies at all the local meets for individual regulation and exhibition. I'd have probably been drill team commander both my junior and senior years if I didn't come over here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but alright. But hey, can't you still be commander when you get back?"

Instead of responding, Killian lifted his right hand. Leila couldn't see it because of his armor, but she noticed that when he stretched his fingers, they twitched oddly. His ring finger could barely move at all.

"Nah, I don't think my hand will work. Even if it does get erased, like the DHL agent said, I'm out of practice."

"Aren't you upset about it? I mean, here you are, scarred for life in more ways than one...after last year especially...I mean, what makes all of this worthwhile? You've been through so much, it'll probably mess up the plans you had for your life."

Reko grinned slightly. "You're forgetting that I'm just as obsessed as you. My one fatal flaw. Besides, last year is why I'm fighting. I'm tired of this war, but I'm even more tired of letting the Zerg get their way. Sure, my life may be ruined, though I don't think it is, still this means that more people get to live like they want instead of gettin' killed by the Zerg."

"Killian...what happened last year? Why did everything go so wrong?"

Killian maintained his grin, though it wavered slightly. "Because...maybe it had to. Maybe I have to be here. Doesn't seem right leaving everything...as it is. You know, in Starcraft, how Kerrigan kills Aldaris? If she hadn't, then Aldaris would've told Zeratul about Raszagal, and therefore Kerrigan wouldn't have been able to use Zeratul for her purposes, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if Kerrigan didn't use Zeratul and everything didn't turn out as it did, then Zeratul never would have discovered the Protoss-Zerg hybrids. See, because all of the crap that happened...it means that everybody can go after something better. It's like...like if Aiur hadn't been destroyed, the 'Toss never would've reconciled with the Dark Templar."

"Killian...what's the good you're after?"

But that was all he had to say on the matter, and Angela decided not to push the issue. Killian had zoned out again, his trademark. For about five minutes he would stop speaking entirely, focusing only on his thoughts. Fortunately those seemed to be on their surroundings, because he was scanning the landscape with intense eyes, indicating his annoyance that neither of them had any sort of detecting device for burrowed enemies.

---

For the people of Corona Town, things were taking a turn for the worse. Chad Guiness had arrived just as he had promised, but the zerg were charging on their heels. The instant the poor civillians had made it past Orville Adam's defensive line, those evil little monsters had set in strong, leaving no time for Chad's Stouts to arrive and get into position. The only reason that the beleagured defenders had actually survived the first wave of attackers was because the Stouts managed to push through the enemy position, albeit at a high casualty rate.

A very much welcome lull in the battle managed to appear; the soldiers quickly reformed their defenses and began to do quick repair jobs on the walls, only enough so that when the zerg destroyed them again, the upper parts would fall on them and crush them as they attacked.

"How're you so far as troops go?" Orville asked Chad. "If them zerg return, I don't think mine'll hold up too much longer."

"Can't say we'd be doin' any better. I'm doin' what I can to hold this place together, but it looks like we're just gonna have to up and run for it. It's been nice on this rock, but somehow I druther live than die for it."

"Can't say I disagree there, Guiness." Adams thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "But any-bany-how, my guess is we got less'n ten minutes to get our civillians outta here before them things come back. I got the dropships ready with supplies 'n all already, but I ain't certain that we can cover 'em right when we gotta keep things secure down here."

"Nah, ya let me figure that one out. Just you get everybody off Budwise."

Chad Guiness had never been one much for words, so he left automatically to work on his strategies. Orville sent runners to go tell the people to immediately leave on the nearest dropship; while organization probably was key, haste was a bigger priority. But one worry on his mind was the insignificant number of dropships and other spacecraft to remove his people. None of them had ever guessed that this day would come. Budwise II had always been a pleasant place, especially since the population was too small and close to ever develop the more serious petty wars between each other.

While some of this problem could be dealt with by putting as many people as possible into the military craft, that left them at high risk, and even that wouldn't work to hold everyone. Notedly, Adams wasn't considering that this might be possible due to the casualties, but it wasn't something he wanted to think about anyway.

"I told you we shoulda listened to the recruiter!" a very familiar and annoying voice interrupted. "The Dominion coulda been here in half a lick if we'd just joined up!"

"Shut up, Bacardi!" Adams snarled at the impertinent woman. "Go get yerself outta my hair for a minute, will ya?"

But Melissa wasn't done complaining yet. "No! You had to get all stuck up and proud and say that we wouldn't do it for nothin'! Said that we'd be giving up our livelyhood if we compromised! Well dyin's giving it up too, you know!"

"Chief Adams!" Mike O'Doule called out as he approached, actually doing a very good job of ignoring the hyperactive woman. "We picked up some sorta signal, and there's this guy that said he'll come and help us out of this."

"Is he from the Dominion?" Melissa eagerly asked.

"Nah way, woman. Says he's some independant guy."

---

"I think I'm crazy." Killian said, after almost an hour of complete silence.

"Dude, don't let what they say get to you." Angela started, trying to help in any vain way possible. "I mean, they're just idiots, and it doesn't matter what any of them think anyway. You've been through so much when you weren't even supposed to be here...they're just jerks is all."

"Parker?"

"Yeah?"

He laughed. "I was just talking about leading us out here and all with little equipment and no detectors."

Angela grimaced. "Oh man, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Killian grinned. "It's cool. But anyway, we were kinda stupid comin' out here. We can't detect hidden bogeys, and even if we do see the zerg about to charge against the base, they'll get there sooner than we could. I'm beginning to think that this was just a waste of time."

"Nah," It was Angela's turn to smile. "It's all a part of my plan. See, there's no way in the world Jenkins would just let me die out here. Pretty soon he's going to see that I was right, and he was being a huge jerk to let me come all out this way aided only by one guy, and he'll send someone out to get us. There's probably a dropship coming this way right now."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause I'm a woman. And Jenkins is thinking that since that's true, I'll just be a detriment to you and prevent any sort of success, while getting us both killed at the same time. You'll see, he'll be along pretty soon."

"Whatever you say."

Killian looked up at the landscape ahead. It was a huge mountain, looming tall and dark in the vast distance. Before that was a huge gulf that dipped below their line of sight because of the rock ridge that waited for them. It was the lip of a deep valley, from what they had remembered in the mission briefing. It was a perfect place for the zerg to hide; the hidden tunnels and caves provided good shelter from any enemies that would attack. As they got closer, they carefully parked their vultures out of sight and peered over the ridge. Certain enough, there were the Zerg.

"Aw man," Killian said. "They must already be as weak as we thought they were. Look, there's hardly any critters out there. The last invasion must have cost them. You can tell 'cause their overlords are kinda low in number, and that means they must be low on the critters that burrow too."

But Angela squinted further at the base, spotting a patch of crystalline blue amidst the flat browns and sickening purples. "Nah, they can't be all that weak. They still have plenty of minerals. If they had run out, that would explain why there's so few of them here. It must be that they sent out some to fight."

That quieted them for a moment as they backed away from the ridge, trying to stay out of sight of the patroling overlords.

"After our base?" Angela asked, after waiting until they had steered their bikes behind a small hill.

"I don't know. Could be, but I'm not sure if Jenkins would have contacted us or not if that was the case. But wait, it can't be, 'cause we pretty much took the shortest way over here. They would've passed by us...I think."

"Unless they went around to attack the base from the back."

"Unless that, yeah. I dunno, maybe there's somebody else here they might want to attack. You know've any other cadets trainin' here?"

Angela shook her head. "You know that they wouldn't do stuff like that, and even if they did there's probably no way that they would tell us. It would mess up with the training if we got together."

Killian wasn't listening to her. Instead he held up a finger, motioning for her to be quiet. She did, and was able to hear what he was hearing: the voices coming on the radio. It was the sound of people communicating things they normally would during a battle: commands, the position of the enemy, etc. While the words they used were codes, it wasn't difficult to tell that someone nearby was under attack from the Zerg.

And it wasn't their own base.

The signals were fairly weak, and were frequently interrupted by static. So it made the two jump when a stronger signal suddenly overcame them.

"Mother Bird to Stormcrows...Mother Bird to Stormcrows...do you copy? Over."

Both of them laughed as loud as they dared at Jenkins' pathetic attempt to sound professional. Not only were the code names stupid, but if Jenkins had had any sense in his head, he wouldn't have tried to call them so that they wouldn't be tempted to break radio silence and alert the Zerg to their location. Angela hoped that they were calling from the base.

"Mother Bird to Stormcrows...I know you're out there, pick up!" There was a strange murmur as the static suddenly picked up. But as it cleared, the two could hear the rest of what Jenkins was saying. "...are headed in your direction to join you..."

Killian shook his head as he turned off the radio. There was no need to listen. Especially since they could already hear the sound of the reinforcements arriving that Jenkins had to have been talking about. But since they were a bigger number with more machinery, they didn't dare go as close as Killian and Parker had. So the two headed back towards their friends, endlessly amused as they biked pass a line of tanks.

Mateo was in charge of the group, apparently. He immediately approached the two wanderers as they dismounted.

"Alright scouts, report!"

Killian smirked a little as Parker answered. "Look, Mateo, we found the Zerg base over that ridge. It looks like they're attacking some other base or group on this planet."

"That's impossible. The Dominion wouldn't put us on a populated planet."

"Well apparently they did. And now we have a chance to really earn our stripes by taking out this base while they're away. Not only will that make us look good, but also it'll help those people in need."

There was a pause for a moment as Mateo considered it. Certainly he looked like he wanted to agree, but he had his doubts. To make certain of his next move, Mateo turned away from the pair and ordered cadet Barnsworth to give him the radio. Walking away from the others, he called for Jenkins and relayed the situation. There was static on the line for a few seconds as Jenkins considered his next move.

"Alright," Jenkins finally said. "Here's what we do. I'll send Benin with another group, and you two will attack the base from two sides. Start working on some strategy while he arrives, then proceed with the attack as soon as possible. Also, keep Parker away from the fight. I don't want her to get any of the credit for this, over."

"Will do. Over and out."

Mateo's pace was quick (as quick as it could be with the massive armor on; the boy always added extra when he could) as he handed the radio back to Barnsworth and headed for Angela. But after a moment, he realized that she and Killian had moved away. Mateo looked around, only to find them when he noticed that most of the cadets were gathered in the center of their little camp.

"And that's what we need to do to take out this base." Angela said. "Doubtlessly Jenkins has already send a second group to join us--he always does things like that--so when they get here, we'll have to get them in position as quick as we can. There's no time to waste if we are to attack before the Zerg's numbers in the base increase."

"Parker, what are you doing?" Mateo exclaimed.

"I'm winning, that's what. Here, I wrote down my strategy for you when you attack." she threw a small, hand-held computer to Mateo, who caught it as deftly as he could, for someone wearing the extra armor plates that he was.

"Wait, you're not going to be here?"

"Nope. Me and Killian are going to take some aircraft and go see what we can do to help the other base, which I've already located."

"How did you-"

"No time for that now. Get in position; the others will be here soon."


End file.
